


Reunited (and it feels so good)

by ninnie_eats_chips



Series: Bad Songs to Make Lemons to [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, Mixed POV, Mutual Masturbation, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninnie_eats_chips/pseuds/ninnie_eats_chips
Summary: He knows this; that she labors for the good of mankind whenever she does anything from defending their shards from the Ascians, to protecting all of Hydaelyn from the Empire's machinations. He understands that is why she cannot be there all the time, and even G’raha—the man underneath the hood who has been showing himself more as of late, understands the nature of her commitment… though to a lesser degree. A small piece of him is still selfish and wanting.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: Bad Songs to Make Lemons to [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567174
Comments: 17
Kudos: 100





	1. looking glass

**Author's Note:**

> I asked on twitter what kinda oneshot ppl would want to see first, and they voted for spicy so here's that first!  
> ...And yeah, it's 2 pieces anyway bc the full thing is like 6k. Oops.
> 
> Here's G'raha's half for now!

As the Crystal Exarch goes about his day doing what he must, so does the Warrior of Light.

He knows this; that she labors for the good of mankind whenever she does anything from defending their shards from the Ascians, to protecting all of Hydaelyn from the Empire's machinations. He understands that is why she cannot be there all the time, and even G’raha—the man underneath the hood who has been showing himself more as of late, understands the nature of her commitment… though to a lesser degree. A small piece of him is still selfish and wanting.

The Exarch gives into the occasional pout while pacing his tower. It’s _her_ who fills his every thought as he carries himself to and fro, still seeking to emulate her work ethic, if nothing else. Helping the Crystarium thrive, doing vital research to aid the Warrior and the Scions, and even things as small as lending himself for readings in the Cabinet of Curiosity. He keeps himself busy for the good of mankind too, but if he’s being honest with himself, he feels he will go _insane_ otherwise. For if the Exarch allows himself aught but work, he will inevitably dream of her touch. Her presence. _Her_ _love._ Not to mention how he worries for her safety when she’s been gone a long time, away on the Source where his scrying spell cannot reach. Or, he worries that he will lose her love somehow.

Despite all his effort to remain steadfast, he ends up all but wringing his hands in the Umbilicus, scarlet eyes swimming across the pages in his lap, but not a word of them being processed. Every other sentence belongs to the Warrior of Light. The pen in his crystal hand has long stopped scratching, and rests above a wordless page in his notes. The Exarch thinks how the beauty of her heart outshines every glittering surface in the Crystal Tower. He thinks of kissing her for a moment, and he _shivers_ and lays down his pen. How he has managed to make love to her for many long nights is a wonder, and one best not to give into right now. There is time for pleasurable thoughts, and then there is time for toil, and the two must not overlap.

But the Exarch fails to suppress the smile that creeps up the corners of his lips, thinking of the Warrior of Light. He eventually releases a sigh, and decides to fold the corner of the page for now. He will pay tribute to his love another way: by going to bed alone, and saying goodnight in his dreams.

At least, that is the plan.

Still, when the door to the Umbilicus shuts behind him, his eyes can’t help but fixate somewhere. With his feet frozen in place, he watches the dormant portal to the Source, ears perked and honed in in hopes of catching his Warrior’s approach, but only hears the faint humming of aether within the tower’s walls. The Exarch stalls for only a moment more before he feels somewhat silly, waiting there as if he were her pet, and then sighs aloud this time, relaxing his ears. 

_He truly misses her. He wishes she’d come home to him, if only for a short while._

Just as he is about to turn and make for his bedchambers (as promised), he decides to give into a passing fancy, and his sandals scuff the cerulean stairs until the Exarch is standing once more before the sealed portal. The last time he stood here, he had seen the Warrior off. Now he just wants to _see_ the Warrior. _Once,_ he tells himself. Such is his vice, he will try to reach her one more time. He’s rarely had what the average person might call ‘free time,’ and he has spent a bit of his own unconventional version pondering how he might transcend the rift—if only visually, to check in on his love.

So try, the Exarch does. He shuts his eyes and inhales, discarding his thoughts of being _“simply mad to attempt such a feat again”_ with a mumble, and then clicks his staff against the floor. He focuses on drawing aether from the tower into his body first; he had required far more than a natural supply to summon even the Scions’ bare souls. And although his usual scrying uses considerably less than a summoning, he presumes it will take more if he hopes to spy even a sliver of the Source.

When he’s ready, he recalls how it feels to latch onto the Warrior’s aether, remembers what he must do to locate it. He’s learned this part through every trial and error, first summoning her through the use of the token he’d left behind, the second time bringing her straight to the Ocular unassisted. Only, when he finds her aether this time, he doesn’t pull. He doesn’t beckon it forth through the gates, only grins at first because it’s the most he’s felt of her in weeks.

_‘Perhaps this is enough,’_ the Exarch thinks. He has expended himself past what she would approve of, and to feel the gentle tickle of her aether on the other end of the rift is like to smelling a familiar perfume on a lover. What’s more, he can’t help but chuckle sheepishly at the thought of one accidental move tugging the Warrior from the comfort of her bed to his arms (though it’s tempting). That would require _much more focus,_ he thinks, but Gods’ forbid he pluck her from a decisive battle, or… or _naked_ unto the surrounding forests. As forgiving as he knew the Warrior to be, he would have a hard time making amends for something like that.

Guilt for his selfishness suddenly catches up with the Exarch, and in the middle of focusing his eyes and energies onto the crystal wall in front of him, he attempts to close the channel and something _slips._

Before he can process his error, the crystal flashes with almost blinding light, making him stagger, and then he realizes he is _looking at her._

“M-my word…!” He eventually utters, jaw falling loose, and drops his staff in shock.

The Exarch doesn’t know how he’s begun the transference, _and_ _an image_ _of the Source no less,_ but he has. He’s done it. He has to get through the shock followed by a giddiness first, but once it subsides, he’s looking upon his Warrior safe in bed.

_… With her legs spread underneath the covers, and an arm reaching conspicuously between them._

A blush quickly fills his cheeks, elation fading as he contemplates what he’s looking at. It isn’t just a surprisingly clear image of his lover sleeping in bed, but an image of her pleasuring herself, tilting her head back against her pillow as she arches into her ministrations. There’s something else beside her as well, but in the dim room, he isn’t sure what it is.

The Exarch takes a slow, unsteady step toward her. He can feel himself hardening. He may be her lover in equal, but it feels as though he shouldn’t be seeing this without permission. Awestruck, relieved, and aroused all at once however, he finds that he cannot look away.

After a time, neither can his sweet Warrior.

“Is she… looking at me?” He pauses before following up with the idea that he is insane. Of course that would be preposterous, wouldn’t it?

She seems to slow for a moment, pausing herself— _What is she thinking of?_ She stares straight at him with lust-filled eyes, mouths something, and then smiles a sugary smile.

No… she most _definitely_ sees him. He thinks his heart has stopped. The crystal hand that flies to his chest slowly raises itself in the air, and as the Exarch gives up his final chance to plea insanity, offers the most hesitant wave he can while whispering the Warrior’s name.

She waves _back._ With _that_ hand, fingers glistening as she does so, and he thinks he will drop to the floor.

Absolutely spectacular, this find is. He knows not how or if he can ever replicate it, and he may or may not be dreaming already. He would dwell on all of that more if he wasn’t intruding in the middle of something so incredibly intimate. And the longer she wears that smile on her lips, wasting little time returning to pleasuring herself, the more he realizes the Warrior _wants_ him to watch. Any doubt he had left is cast away with the blanket she removes from her body. With her sheer nightgown pulled above her waist, she blushes, spreads herself wider for him to see, continues stroking her entrance. She is _wet._ His ears flick at the rush of arousal that tingles through his spine from head to toe.

_“O-oh.”_

His tail whips inside his robes. He wants to pounce her, love her. The young man inside him yearns to touch and tease her. Yearns _so badly_ to have her to himself all night again. There’s no denying it, though he’s been lucky on more than one occasion that his loose-fitting garments conceal his arousal so well, among other things. It’s plain on his face now however, lips permanently parted while blood pumps through his heart like lava running hot and fast from open earth.

The Exarch gives into his lover’s tantalizing teases and comes further forward, until he rests his hand on the surface, whispering to the Warrior, _“I want to touch you.”_ Though he knows they cannot hear one another (he’s still bewildered they can even _see_ one another), he runs his fingers tenderly down her thigh, stopping short of her sex. The Warrior seems to understand the sentiment, at least. She stops again after a moment, just long enough for him to beg her not to stop, and then starts making some sort of gesture with her hands.

Red eyes aglow with lust and the light of aether struggle to read those hands. She seems to grab at something invisible at her waist, does something with it, and then… _ah._

His flush deepens considerably. Any man would know what _that_ meant. Mayhap it’s the lewd gesture that has the Exarch looking behind him at the entrance to the Ocular, and then back to the Warrior in bed. Even though it’s highly unlikely anyone will come knocking at this hour, he could always make her disappear if need be. _And oh, how he wants to please her…_

“R-right here?” He asks shakily, just to be sure, and checks behind him just one more time before she nods and seems to ask, _“Please, Raha?”_ And the soundless words are enough to make a shudder tear through him.

_‘Yes... Oh, yes.’_ He wants her. He wants her so badly that he can’t rip that damned fastening from his waist quick enough. The heavy gold piece clanks against the floor and echoes off the wall and as he hikes up his robes, she looks so pleased. The Exarch can deal with the sweet eyes perhaps, but _begging_ is something he could never simply ignore. And so with his crystal hand holding up the bits of his robes, he frees his length and feels his knees weaken as he gives into the welcoming heat of his palm.

The Exarch is subservient now. He’s certainly no stranger to pleasuring himself with his imagination. But the fact that she is right there, beautiful and vulnerable as he—and rewards his modest strokes with the insertion of one finger followed by two, then three, makes him moan and quicken his pace. It isn’t long before he thinks not of where he is, but where he _wishes_ he was, and the only things important to him are his steady rhythm and the gorgeous creature in front of him. 

Eventually his Warrior seems to remember something, and reaches for the thing lying atop the sheets that he couldn’t make out before; _it’s a glass toy,_ and decently girthy at that. The Exarch can only gasp and buck when she lines up the toy and presses the tip of it so easily inside. It’s when she begins to fuck herself with it, and he recognizes her lips falling open to _“Raha,”_ that he realizes he’s terribly close. His knees shake. The Warrior rolls her hips up into the cock like she sometimes would underneath him, and he _feels it,_ bucking into his hand. Reverently, he douses the room with her name, professing his love to her as if in a chapel. 

He can’t stop. The Crystal Exarch knows patience better than anyone. He can pace himself for his lover, but not now. His crystal hand eventually drops the material and lets it fall ungracefully around his cock, bracing himself against the wall in time for his knees to buckle underneath. If only she could hear his song of her name when his orgasm shakes him. He makes sure she can see it, at least, as he paints the picture of her liberally with his seed. He doesn’t get the chance to feel guilty before the combination of fingers and the glass cock clutched firmly in her slender hand bring the Warrior to such heights he can measure it for himself. She not only comes undone, but a rush of her own fluid soon wettens the sheets, and as she trembles and heaves, the Exarch is left to adore her afterglow from afar… as well as contemplate the mess he’s made of the Ocular.

He has desecrated these walls in her name time and time again, but never like this…

A quiet, sheepish laugh escapes him and as his love recovers and sits up on her elbows, examining the wet stain on the bed (clearly not her own bed), he comforts her as best he can by stroking her hair. He waits for her to discard the toy, and then they trade longing looks in silence. That she misses him too, the Exarch’s heart can’t help but soar and ache at once. In a way, waiting a hundred years was the easy part. But once he learned her touch, he learned to crave it. No one else stirred him, body and heart, like this. Even back then.

“I love you,” he says out loud, hoping the Warrior can read his lips well enough—but if she can’t, he’s fine to share his secret with the Ocular. It’s nothing these walls haven’t heard before. She smiles immediately, however, and appears to say it back. His ears wiggle stupidly, and with a deep flush, realizes he is still very much holding himself before replacing his shorts where they belong. Afterwards, he does something he’s not shy about at all, and simply sucks the side of his hand clean. Something the Warrior had told him she likes when they discovered this habit of his. It’s how he learned it was apparently strange not to mind the taste of himself. He needs to clean up the wall though, _thoroughly,_ and before it dries.

It is time to say goodnight for now, and the Exarch knows it. He’s still half-convinced it was a dream, but nevertheless… he holds for another long moment while his Warrior pulls a loose blanket around herself, and he chooses that memory to ingrain in his mind most prominently. With a raise of his hand in the air, he waits for her to do the same, and then finally picks up his staff and waves it at the crystal wall.

When the pleasant imagery darkens and fades away, he frowns at the very apparent splatter left behind.

“... Oh, dear.”


	2. reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You never see so much weakness in him as the strong-willed leader he’s become, as when he leaves himself bare and beholden to you, and you treasure him. You have ached to feel his warm body against you, the play of soft skin and firm crystal together. Sweet words, and even sweeter sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeee, I hope you all like the theme of reunion I went with for this fic! I felt like it would be a good mood rn. ;v;

A few days have passed since you saw Raha in the Ocular, and it’s all that’s been on your mind since. 

You want to congratulate him, firstly. You know he had mentioned something offhand about trying to pry through the rift, even if he might’ve been joking one of those times. But you still don’t know how he managed to actually do it. The man _transcended time and space, defied mortality,_ and he still continues to impress you. And all things considered, the timing couldn’t have been much better; appearing to you in private and just before bed. You can only hope you rewarded him well enough, making use of what you had. Yet, that glass toy is hardly a substitute for the man waiting patiently inside the Crystal Tower. 

It’s been incredibly difficult not to think back to the imagery of Raha standing in his Ocular with his smallclothes clinging to his thighs, flushing with himself in hand. How his mouth fell open when he succumbed to pleasure, eyes so filled with need. You never see so much weakness in him as the strong-willed leader he’s become, as when he leaves himself bare and beholden to you, and you _treasure him._ You have ached to feel his warm body against you, the play of soft skin and firm crystal together. Sweet words, and even sweeter sounds. Such thoughts come to you at the most inappropriate of times, and they had done so up until the day you prepare to travel back to The First.

Finally, you can go to him.

As nonchalantly as possible, like a heroine adhering to duty (and _not_ like someone who is rushing to see their lover), you wave off those who are still supervising the Syrcus Trench, and then step through the hole in the rift that was made just for you. Once you’ve stumbled through and take the first shaky step into the Ocular, you can make out the rustle of fabric, sandals quickly pattering up the stairs to reach you. You blink and fall straight forward into Raha’s arms wrapping around you. He stumbles back just a little, emits a light “ah” as he does so, but is otherwise unburdened. Quite the opposite, in fact—he is happy and beaming, plush lips and eyes smiling both.

“Welcome back, my—“ You don’t allow Raha to finish, instead wrapping your arms around his neck and drinking deep of content sighs into your mouth. His lips are so unreasonably soft. You take the time to kiss them one by one, then both, sliding your tongue in between when he parts them for you. _And oh, he really has missed you,_ threading fingers through your hair as you kiss. Behind you are the days that the outspoken scholar-turned shy sage would advise against kissing like this anywhere that wasn’t your suite, or the small room in the tower he’d claimed for his own. Simply being inside the tower he commands, it’s about as private as things can get for you. So you savor the quiet hums, the sound of your lips locking echoing inside this space.

“I had a strong feeling you would be coming,” Raha says the moment your lips part, ears flicking joyfully. You give him one more small kiss and then give into a chuckle, a shite-eating grin following close behind. 

“Did you~?”

He eyes you suspiciously as you turn your head to glance at the now-re-sealed portal to the Source, and he mutters, _“Don’t.“_

“I know _you_ sure did,” you follow up anyway, bursting into a giggle before turning back to see Raha pouting, cheeks dyed a rosy pink hue. “You seem to have done a fine job of cleaning it, though. It’s very shiny.”

_“Please.”_ Eventually, he can’t help but smile sheepishly at your tease. “Believe me, had I ever expected to actually _achieve_ such a feat, I wouldn’t have intended to use it to… do what we did with it.”

You chuckle at him, and then the way he puts it registers as curious to you. Raha notices the slight tilt of your chin, gives a deadpan look, and then shrugs.

“Though I wish I could attribute that success to more of my own merit, I’m afraid I, uh... Well, I’m entirely unsure of how I did it, to be honest.” You blink at him. “More of a stroke of luck.”

“And I just happened to be…”

“Yes. Impeccable timing, if I do say so myself?” Raha’s brows knit, still sheepish even in his jest, and you pay him a gentle caress on his cheek that he nuzzles into. _Still,_ you couldn’t agree more. He appeared right there when you needed him. And apparently, when he needed _you._

“I’ll say...” You lean back in and sigh another content sigh as he holds you again, this time a tiny space apart but with your arms joined together. “A success is a success, anyway. And you know-“ You close the distance, leaning in to kiss the sliver of crystal descending Raha’s cheek, following it to his neck, and feel his hairs stand on end.

“Mm?” He hums, trying not to sound too interested yet, still looking the part of the Exarch in the way he carries himself—but that slight melodic tone and wandering hands finding your waist give him away. You think his tail is curling back and forth underneath his robes. He doesn’t exactly need to hide it from you anymore, and doesn’t do a good job of it anyhow. You turn a little warm when you remember to speak.

“It was no luck on your part, your effect on me that night.”

“Oh?”

There was no way he didn’t see the sizable wet spot on the bed. Raha’s ears point up with excitement at the mention of it. You know for a fact he likes when you do _that_ during sex, as he’s thrown himself at your mercy in the past to coax it out of you. A look of some sort grows on him. Cocky, maybe. Definitely aroused, yet there’s a practiced humbleness. A hesitation to readily accept such a compliment from you.

His voice peaks a little higher than usual. “You imply that I am still pleasurable from afar?”

“Very.” You lean in, keep it down to almost a whisper while brushing back locks of whitening hair, feeling him shiver when your lips continue to graze his jaw from skin to crystal, back to skin. “You don’t need to touch me to give me pleasure, Raha.” The words, as you say them, carry more than one connotation.

His eyes are heavy now. He squeezes your arms, and there’s a deep rumble rising in Raha’s chest when your lips brush against his again. You catch him swallowing before he says lowly, “I should very much like to test that.” A bold idea, and you know it. Coming from someone who usually cannot keep his hands off of you in bed, no matter how much you might tease him for it.

Smirking lips part and become a clash of teeth and tongue, strong arms already wound around your waist. You kiss him so hard this time, he lets go of himself, lets you push him against the wall beside the portal and make him breathless. When your hand cups his arousal through his robes, he groans and presses himself into your touch before a semblance of reason emerges. Raha gives a gentle tug near your elbow to let up, and you leave him and then you’re looking at a mess of a man, who still has some reservations about being _this_ intimate in the Ocular, it seems. You don’t need to follow those slitted eyes far to know they are glancing behind you at the door, as he’d stopped to do when you first prompted him to disrobe. 

“Might I suggest we celebrate our reunion somewhere else? Your suite, perhaps?” He inquires when the air returns to his lungs, and cocks an eyebrow. You think about it while you run your fingers along the white strip of material on his chest.

“Hmm.”

He never does suggest his own bedchambers. You have used it before, but it hardly qualifies as someone’s bedroom. The bed itself creaks enough from normal use that you fear it will give way, and to be honest, the sparse room makes you sad. Perhaps Raha had noticed this as well.

You have another idea though: a third option, which doesn’t involve your lover’s creaky cot, or making him trek all the way back to your room with a stiffy.

“How about in the Umbilicus?” The redhead blinks at you a couple times, cute and open-mouthed.

“I-I don’t think-”

“You have divulged your deepest, darkest secrets in there. Don’t you think ours will be safe?”

You stare longingly into one another’s eyes, and with his mouth still hanging agape, you know this man is liable to go on about comfort or somesuch. He is considering what you said, however, his hardness not dissipating. Not while your body still presses his up against the wall. You can confirm this, swaying the fickle Exarch easily with gentle lips on his neck, letting your hand wander down the front of his robes again.

“More than safe… I would assume.” He squeezes at your waist. A twitch of his ear, as well as his manhood against your knee. A tiny, sly smile follows. “If that’s what it takes to have you to myself.”

You grin and interlock your fingers, then lead Raha down the stairs toward the room on the right. Like many things in the tower, the door to the Umbilicus heeds his blood as well as any key. It takes a simple raise of his hand, and the seal clicks, making your heart beat faster. Together, you walk inside with joined hands, and he gives yours a squeeze.

_The double doors shut behind you a touch faster than you expect._ Raha is the one to surprise you with his fervence, taking you by the wrist and waist near the center of the room and spinning you around so fast that you gasp when he captures your lips.

“I truly did miss you,” he utters between passionate licks. You only moan into him this time, let your lover’s hands wander over your clothes and beneath your top while you work his neat braid loose over his shoulders. Already, he forgets his own proposal of keeping his hands off, and for a moment, as one hand cups your breast through your bra and he pulls you close to nibble at the supple skin of your neck, you’re inclined to let him do whatever he pleases… But it’s _Raha_ whom you want to make sing today. And to do that, you want to put him at _your_ mercy. Make him a prisoner of his own tower in a different way. Behind closed doors— _these doors,_ specifically, you suspect he will be able to endure.

He still pouts sometimes when things don’t go as expected, and he does look at you questionably when you stop him in the middle of marking you, but he doesn’t often fuss about doing what you wish. He even asks, “Tell me what you want” in a husky voice, and your response is to grin and tug him to the floor. You slide a lone book out of the way with your foot and wait for him to sit. Then, starting with your coat and top, you stand and strip over him. Crimson eyes follow each tantalizing bit of skin as you reveal it. Raha takes the decorative belt off of his own waist, so slow only because he cannot take his eyes off of you. He finds himself impatient once you‘re naked from the waist up, and takes the liberty of getting to his knees. Hands caress your thighs through your bottoms, those impossibly soft lips kissing just above your waistband as Raha begins to undo your trousers for you. You can’t help but chuckle affectionately, rubbing an ear while he works those to the floor.

He presses his nose into you with every kiss. The purring is _loud_ as you let him finish undressing you the rest of the way. You get both of the clasps on his chest undone too, before you have to take his fingers out from between your legs, and you almost whine when the sensation stops.

“No you don’t~” He looks up at you almost smugly, and you shiver as he licks the moistness from his spoken fingers. He’s so given to putting your pleasure first, and if nothing else, Raha has become so excellent at sweet-talking you into submission, bargaining with his hands and mouth. Sometimes you don’t even make it onto his cock. Today you’ll not have that. You nudge his hands away to pull off every last bit of his clothing save his smallclothes, toss them beneath him, and then straddle him with his back flush to the floor.

Raha is stunningly handsome _,_ crystal and all. You admire his loose locks fanning out against the spread of clothing, lips already kissed pink. Stalling again over his toned muscles, focusing on the pert nipple that hardens in the cool air of the Umbilicus. You can feel him throb between your thighs and you know he is of the same mind as you are, gaze dragging and lingering over your body. Raha’s tail wraps around your leg as he grins. You almost laugh at how his fur tickles you, at first.

“You’re beautiful,” he finally admits, taking the words right out of your mouth.

“I could say the same of you.” You rock your hips on him and watch him jerk and yelp as punishment for trying to touch you again. His ears sink when you decide to restrain his arms against the pile of clothes behind his head.

“You relax, Raha. I’m going to take care of you.” You lean down to peck him and manage to be lulled back into a deep kiss. However, you take advantage of his distraction this time, and make sure he will absolutely _not_ be able to use those hands on you.

“W-Wh-” Raha stammers as you use a simple spell to weave a bond of aetherial chains around his wrists; a simple trick you’d picked up after having it used against you plenty of times on the battlefield. The glowing, ochre weave isn’t so tight that it will hurt him, but when Raha tests them, they hold as intended. Happy with yourself, you kiss a line down his chest, across the crevice of skin and crystal both, and feel him shudder.

“You’re sure?”

You nod, close your lips around his flesh nipple and hum as you suck, relishing how he hisses at your use of teeth, leaving pink and purple marks all over the left side of his chest.

“If you’re okay with this.” You glance up for a moment and find long lashes fluttering shut in bliss. He gives a weak nod, too.

_“More than._ I’m... more than okay with this.”

Ilm by ilm, you litter Raha’s body with lovebites. He squirms, but you know that’s only because he loves every moment of your mouth and your hands on him (and because he aches to do the same). Every now and then, he holds his breath to savor it. You even give his tail a few strokes and it makes his spine curve, makes those taut muscles tighten and flex. You _want_ him. You’re enthralled by the sight of him, as you were when you watched his projection from the foot of your bed, and now you’ve become hyper aware of the need coiling deep inside you. It starts to cloud your mind.

You work your lover’s smallclothes down and free his length, but only so you can feel the electric slip of skin where you need it. He watches in a trance while you part your legs a little wider, brace your hands on his sides, and rock against your clit until he’s coated in your essence. As you slide down toward his base and your bottom rubs his shaft, hot and painfully hard, Raha bites his lip and a groan of your name escapes. His fists curl in his restraints, and the notion of selfishness fills you.

“S-sorry.” You feel like a torturer but continue to stimulate yourself as he stares, unblinking.

“No, _please._ Use me.”

You want to put Raha first. You will. You tell yourself you will, but you can’t resist how close his plea makes you, and _fast._ Heat and friction bundles up in your loins as you grind your hips on him, and soon enough you whimper as a modest orgasm takes you. Thankfully, not enough to make you see white.

“I-I’m not done yet.” You slouch over him, just long enough so you can steady your breathing. The conjured shackles rustle once, soft tail soothing in the place of his hands. You don’t let yourself get too lax before you take Raha’s member in your hand, stroking him a few times as you line up his head with your entrance. Eager hips roll into your palm, and you reward him by taking him quickly, feeling him part you all at once. You can’t but pick yourself up and bounce on his cock, and he moans so openly that you don’t even bother to pace yourself. Raha is more than happy with this. He praises your insides, whispers again of your beauty, that he missed you, and you can’t stop.

Your voice catches in your throat, his name tumbling from your lips when he pushes up on his heels and makes you come down hard on him with a hitch, reminding you of his strength, and again, _that he doesn’t really need to use his hands._ You’re somewhat surprised by your lover’s stamina, too. He holds out until your breaths are ragged, until you’ve lovingly fucked every ilm of yourself on him, and it feels like you could come again. His cock is tighter inside you, and by the way he tenses his thighs, makes his knuckles white, you can conclude he is terribly close. Actually, it feels like he is holding back for some reason.

“I want-” Raha groans. “I want to see you come one more time. _Please._ Come for me… l-like I know you can. _Come_ **_on_** _me…!”_

A slight shift of angle to get him striking the right spot, and his begging helps to undo you yet again. You tumble forward, catching yourself with your arms on either side of him, struggling to keep an erratic rhythm while your body shakes with pleasure. Raha picks up where your body goes slack and you’re only vaguely aware of the wetness that leaves you, the warmth that _fills you_ when he finally releases. For a long moment, it feels like you’re one and the same soul. Collapsed, heaving, you lie there in peace and listen to Raha’s heart race until it thrums a little more gently, mixing with the soft hum of the tower.

His voice is almost hoarse when he says, “the chains,” and you tax your energy reserves to reach up and release the spell. The chains snap and dissipate into nothingness, and as soon as Raha has his hands free, one finds its way into your hair, the other raising your chin to kiss your lips. “I love you,” he whispers, and this time you can hear it. This time you can say it back directly into his ear, kiss it, and laugh when it twitches against your lips, fine tufts of fur tickling your face. You’ve left your lover very wet, and you see no reason to leave his ears any different, so you lick into them each and make Raha whine with overstimulation. 

At least, you think that’s why he whines. On the contrary, you realize he’s still _very_ hard after slipping out of you. After a bit of cuddling on the floor, you glance down between the two of you. _Still standing._ But you were certain he came already… 

It’s your turn to arm with a pout. Raha is smiling at you. Purring with you in his arms. His eyebrows raise until you finally ask the burning question.

“Did I not do well enough?”

“You forget where we are.”

You hang with your mouth open. You have to think about it for half a second, and once it occurs to you what Raha means, he has you flipped underneath him in the pool of his robes. No matter that his abdomen glistens with your essence.

“You’re _incredible,”_ he finally assures with a nuzzle into the bridge of your nose, and his affection fills you with warmth. A red and white tail sways in the air however, and it spells a little mischief in the making.

“However… you are mistaken if you thought me not up for more, my dearest love~”

Raha takes your leg over his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *incomprehensible* have a nice day

**Author's Note:**

> Stay tuned for bangin'....
> 
> And feel free to follow me on Twitter if you love this cat as much as I do!! \o/  
> https://twitter.com/cactwerk


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